


Please Let Me In

by narrativeimperative



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bad Dreams, Bottom Kylo Ren, Community: tfa_kink, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mind Meld, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Sleepy Sex, Soft Kylux, Top Hux, i take too much sugar in my tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6788452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narrativeimperative/pseuds/narrativeimperative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Hux loves fucking Kylo when he's sleepy because he's so pliant and submissive when he can hardly keep his eyes open."</p><p>Kylo Ren needs a respite from the dreams; Hux isn't sure how much longer this can last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Let Me In

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Позволишь войти?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929301) by [Angorka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angorka/pseuds/Angorka), [fandom_Kylux_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Kylux_2016/pseuds/fandom_Kylux_2016)



> I had the clearest picture of what this fic was going to be when I read the prompt, and then it turned out to be ... a little different. HEY-HO.

Ren had dreams, now.

The immediate aftermath of the destruction of Starkiller Base had been chaos, but Hux hadn’t made it to the rank of General for nothing. Out of the debris of their grand machine, he had fought desperately to restore order – any semblance of order – and now he was finally getting results. Tentative results, maybe, but enough to stop him from wondering if Snoke wouldn’t prefer his head on a platter.

Plans could be laid. Troops could be drafted. Their damaged, disparate forces could coalesce once more. It could be a new beginning.

It _was_ a new beginning. With Hux at the helm, the First Order was beginning to recover.

For Kylo Ren, it was a different story.

Though he’d never been a model of self-restraint, since killing his father and losing the girl, Ren’s behaviour was bordering on truly destructive. Hux couldn’t say what he did with his time – Hux’s own days were desperate races to right his sinking ship – but Ren left for weeks at time, without a word of explanation, and returned to the _Finalizer_ full of inexplicable fury, lashing out against officer and stormtrooper alike. The rare moments that Hux saw him in private, he was silent and sullen, focus turned inwards to a future only he could see.

Hux was trying to rise from the ashes; Ren was spiralling further into the flames.

It was too esoteric for Hux, who had no truck with the vague and the mystical unless he could maneuver it to a material end. Give him losing odds on a battlefield and he was right at home, but Ren’s deepening moods were beyond his abilities.

And then the dreams had started, and Ren had become – if possible – even more tempestuous.

It wouldn’t have been so terrible, Hux supposed, only now the visions were getting in his way, too.

~~~

Hux awoke with a flash of blinding white rage. He was wounded and frozen in the dark snow, in the night, utterly alone, bleeding out where no one would ever find him, and –

It took Hux several moments to calm down long enough to realize that the anger wasn’t his, though it had left him sweaty and shaken. The image of the girl – his lightsaber flickering out in the frozen air – the dead trees in the black forest – those memories didn’t belong to him.

He was in his own cot on the _Finalizer_ , just where he should be, lightyears away from the remnants of Starkiller.

The motion-sensor lights flickered on in their lowest capacity, soft and blue.

There was a warm weight on the bed beside him. Hux shifted, and was surprised to see Ren passed out on top the covers. He hadn’t been here when Hux had gone to sleep. Hux rose up on one arm to look at him; he hadn’t seen Ren in days.

His arms were wrapped tightly around himself, his body angled inwards in unconscious recoil from – something. He was still wearing his robe; it appeared he hadn’t even bothered to take off his belt or boots before falling face-first onto the bed. His face was burrowed into the bedclothes, but Hux could tell from the way his body was twitching to know what was going on.

If Ren had been seeking greater control over the Force, it wasn’t working. The dreams were getting worse.

A quiet noise escaped his mouth – quiet, trembling, broken.

Enough.

Hux reached out and grabbed Ren’s arm firmly, hard enough to shake him awake. The dream didn’t seem to want to let him go, however: Ren resisted Hux’s grip at first, mumbling and pushing his face further into the covers.

“Ren,” Hux insisted, increasing the pressure on his bicep. His body was taut and trembling under Hux’s hand, and Hux felt a wave of trepidation. Ren was in obvious discomfort, his brow creased, but more than that, he could harm Hux now if he lashed out now, either with his fist or the Force.

Hux wasn’t stupid enough to ever let himself forget how powerful Kylo Ren was, but it had been a long time since he’d feared him in any physical capacity. That kind of fear belonged to an earlier time, when they’d been less cautious with one another, unwilling to show mercy and too quick to push if necessary.

But no, Ren rose from the dream in the space of a sigh. He shifted his head, hair falling back from his sweaty brow. Even in the low light, Hux could see that his face had an unhealthy gray pallour. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed dizzy, unable to raise his head, but his shoulders relaxed when he made eye contact with Hux.

“Oh,” he said, voice sepulchral and cracked.

“Yes. Oh.” Hux removed his hand, settled back, giving Ren the space he seemed to need.

“I was dreaming?” he mumbled.

“You were having a nightmare. Which you kindly shared with me. Again.”

Ren didn’t seem to be able to process Hux’s sarcasm. He tried to raise himself on his arms instead, to shift position. He only barely managed it.

“Where am – are we …?”

“My room,” said Hux said with a frown, correctly interpreting Ren’s confusion. “Where did you think you were?”

Ren seemed unable to take that information in – he was looking around muzzily, eyes blinking. He was still on Starkiller. He was failing, over and over again, lost in the snow and the cold.

“My room,” Hux repeated. “You came here.” Even in the weak light, Hux could see that Ren was exhausted. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Not sure,” Kylo managed at last, trying to shake it off. He rose – clumsily – to a sitting position. “I shouldn’t be here, I don’t have time to –”

“Don’t be absurd,” said Hux, in the tone of voice he usually used when Ren wanted to do something short-sighted and foolhardy. Ren was the stronger of the two, but when he shifted to move off the bed, Hux stopped him with a simple touch to his chest.

“You’ve nowhere to be. Get out of those clothes,” he ordered, not ungently.

Ren stared at him, face blank.

It had been a strange face before that girl had taken a lightsaber to it; now, bifurcated by the thick, angry scar, Hux had no way to describe the effect, even to himself. It sometimes seemed that the two halves of his face held completely different expressions, as though the fateful strike had cut deeper than just Ren’s flesh, and had split him into two people. His features hardly seemed to belong to one individual.

Not that anyone saw his face but Hux.

Ren hadn’t wanted to show him, at first. After he’d woken up in medbay, he’d avoided Hux’s rooms for weeks. He hadn’t bothered to come up with excuses, and hadn’t seemed to understand that Hux had already seen the worst of it. Hux knew better than to ascribe it to Ren’s vanity. It had been shame, shame at his own failure. It had taken coaxing, wheedling and begging to finally get Ren to take the damn mask off again, and even now, Hux still wasn’t used to it.

Some selfish, private part of him was fiercely glad that Ren’s face had been maimed. He had never been good at sharing, and maybe this meant he wouldn’t have to.

“Okay,” said Hux, shifting gears. “Arms up.”

Together, they divested Ren of his robe and outer garments. Ren seemed to want to stop there, exhausted, but Hux prodded him to take off his under garments as well. Ren made a complaining noise, but followed Hux’s hands as they stripped fully nude.

Hux grimaced – Ren’s clothes were grimy and slightly damp in places, and Hux resisted the urge to turn up the lighting to see whether or not any of it was blood. He balled the clothes and tossed them aside, a problem for a later moment. Kylo would likely be irritated once he came back to himself and found his robe wrinkled and filthy, but Hux didn’t care.

Surveying the hunched body in front of him, it was clear that none of the blood – if blood it was – belonged to Ren, though there were bruises blooming against his pale skin. He’d also lost some weight, unless Hux was mistaken.

Hux pressed a hand to Ren’s chest, and the Knight slipped back onto the bed like a doll, his body unresisting.

“You can feel them too, now?” Ren asked. “The dreams?”

His glum tone indicated that he might prefer a scenario where Hux wasn’t privy to the deepest fears of his subconscious mind.

Hux saw no point in denying it, so he nodded, but he didn’t want to fuel Ren’s dangerous self-indulgent streak, either.

“Go back to sleep,” he said instead, practically. “You’re exhausted.”

Ren looked up at him with his heavy, dark eyes, and Hux saw something like real despair there.

“I don’t want to,” Ren said, low and weary and piercing in its honesty. “I can’t, Hux. I don’t want to see it again. When I try to sleep – it’s all I can see.”

Hux pushed a few heavy strands of hair out of Ren’s face. His fingers were careful not to pull at the skin, wary of irritating the wound.

Hux didn’t do this kind of thing.

General Hux of the First Order couldn’t do this, and neither could Kylo Ren. Empathy was a weakness. It would get you killed. There was no room in their lives for comfort or kindness.

But maybe that wasn’t what this was. Maybe this was simply … necessary. Ren had already lost so much, was poised to lose even more, was unravelling by the seams more and more each day. Maybe, in here, Hux could afford to indulge him, if it would help delay whatever they both knew was inevitably coming.

“What can I do?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over Ren’s cheek, an uncharacteristically tender gesture for him. “How can I help?”

“You can’t make them stop.”

Hux knew that, he knew that.

There was something about the way Ren didn’t quite meet Hux’s eyes. He was always so full of fire and fury when they were outside. Single-mindedly chasing down his demons, he wasn’t afraid to violate direct orders, even from Hux himself. But now, in here, he was tired and trembling with need.

“Can I kiss you?” asked Hux, giving voice to the desire he’d been harbouring for days.

“Please,” Kylo breathed, “please kiss me.”

Hux remembered the first time he’d seen Ren’s lips.

 _Cocksucking lips_ , he’d called them, attempting to get a rise and succeeding.

He’d spent significant time since then learning everything about them – how they pushed hot and insistent when Ren was in a demanding mood, how they could brush so softly against Hux’s own mouth, how they felt pressed into the small of his back when Ren thought Hux was asleep.

How they yielded beneath Hux now, opening up for him with a sigh, like Hux was bringing him water in a desert.

Ren’s body melted beneath Hux, the long muscular length of him falling lax as Hux drew his arms about him. Their bare chests moved together with shared breath.

Hux had to keep himself from groaning – he’d missed this.

Ren was usually an energetic lover – energetic and fierce and about as frustrating as Hux could possibly imagine. He was forever nipping, biting, tugging, whining, never satisfied and always demanding more. In the beginning, Hux couldn’t get him to be still for two seconds together.

Tonight, though, there was no fight left in him, not here in the dark. His lips had gone lazy under Hux’s, and he looked up at Hux with heavy eyes as Hux pulled back. He barely seemed conscious, but a spasm crossed his face when it seemed like Hux was releasing him.

“No, please …” he struggled, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Please …”

“I indulge you too much,” Hux murmured, but there was no heat in it. “I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down to capture Ren’s lips again. This tenderness between them wasn’t new, exactly, but rarely were they so straightforward about it. If Ren hadn’t been so tired, so heavy with exhaustion, Hux wouldn’t have considered this – but Ren needed it.

He needed Hux.

Ren let his eyes flutter closed.

Hux breathed him in, let his lips trail up to touch Ren’s nose, his cheek, his forehead. Cradled in his arms, Ren seemed to be a different creature entirely.

“Do you want more?”

Ren let out a soft sound, and seemed to think that that was enough to get the point across. Never letting his lips stray from Ren’s face, and with one hand stroking his hair, Hux did his best to undo his laces and push away his pants with the other.

“Can you move your legs for me?” Hux murmured, licking the soft spot behind Ren’s ear.

Ren complied, and Hux sunk down into the warm V between Ren’s legs.

Ren wasn’t hard; his cock was soft and dusky against his leg. When Hux reached out to scoop it up in his palm, Ren made a soft moue of discontent. Never opening his eyes, he took Hux’s wrist in his own and moved his hand further down, scraping his sac gently, to rest at his entrance.

“Alright,” Hux agreed, nosing the hollow of Ren’s throat.

Somewhere, there was lube and a condom; somehow, Hux found them, without letting his fingertips leave Ren’s skin for too long. Soon, his fingers were pumping in and out of Ren’s body slowly, so slowly, and Ren’s head was lolling on Hux’s pillow, heavy with the sleep he couldn’t find.

“Like that?” Hux murmured, his world narrowed down to this body on this bed in front of him.

“Just like that,” Ren slurred, capable of nothing else, seeking the warmth of Hux’s mouth the moment he’d done speaking.

Ren was warm around Hux’s fingers, warm beneath his chest, warm where their lips touched. He made no noise as Hux breached him, but as Hux slowly filled him up, Ren let out a soft whine.

“Hush,” Hux whispered, stilling him, comforting him. “I have it.” Hux gathered Ren’s leg around his waist and settled down deeper, arm braced along the line of Ren’s body, hand sifting through his soft hair once more.

“There,” Hux soothed, Ren’s body pliant under his, filled to overflowing at this angle. He looked so peaceful like this, hair spread out on the pillow, eyelids fluttering as Hux began to move.

“You’re almost manageable when you’re sleepy,” Hux said, then regretted it. He wasn’t sure why he’d said it, why he’d felt the need to put words between them, but he took the sting out of them with another kiss. They didn’t need words right now.

As though struggling against a great weight, Ren opened his eyes. He raised a tired hand, let it fall against Hux’s temple.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Hux nodded. Ren didn’t ask to do this often, but Hux didn’t have to guess why he wanted it now.

Hux felt Ren’s presence illuminate the structures of his own brain. Ren pooled through the corridors of Hux’s mind, filling up one room then another, like ink flowing from jar to jar. Hux did not often pay attention to the operations of his own mind, nor did he often investigate his own motivations, but having Ren there was like having a tourist in his brain, rubbing up against what Hux took for granted and making it new and surprising again. Through Ren, Hux saw himself: it was an organized mind, crisp and clean, the logical connections flowing in if-then propositions ad infinitum through the present, unspooling towards a future that was manageable, containable, stable.

Everything that Ren knew he wasn’t.

Ren was still soft between them, too tired to get it up, but that didn’t matter so much; Hux felt how secure he felt, full in every way, satisfied and filled for once instead of blindly searching.

Ren let his formless unhappiness and exhaustion pour into the clear delineations of Hux’s steady mind, content just to be contained by something other than his own impulses and fraying self-control. And Hux held him there, safe.

The poor boy. His poor Knight.

_(Not yours, not really. He belongs to Snoke. He’ll always be Snoke’s.)_

Their hands were in each other’s hair, brushing against temples and across collarbones. Hux kissed Ren’s lips, his neck, his shoulders, each touch a tiny gesture of praise.

There was no war, no disaster, no shame. There were no dreams to hide from. It was just him and Ren, and for once, Ren wasn’t fighting him – Ren wasn’t fighting anything.

When Hux came, it was like falling backwards into a warm bath, and Ren came with him, pulled along, and fell to sleep in his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Read it on the kinkmeme: https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8109433#cmt8109433


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